


Satellite

by punk_rock_yuppie



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Mentions of Other Minor Characters - Freeform, Pre-Slash, implied coldflash, no dialogue just len's introspection, potential for multiple parts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-21 02:51:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6035118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punk_rock_yuppie/pseuds/punk_rock_yuppie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>wishing on a star that's just a satellite, driving in a car with broken taillights</i>
</p><p>They're on the run together and Len can't bring himself to mind that much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Satellite

**Author's Note:**

> No dialogue, just a lot of Len's thoughts and feelings! I might write more to this (exploring basically all the stuff this bit talks about) but I'm not sure yet. It'll depend on how people like this one. 
> 
> As the tags said, alternate universe slightly, Barry and Len are on the run as criminals, and Len is thinking too much.

Len looks over to the passenger seat of the stolen car they’re driving in. He watches for a brief moment as the kid’s even breathing fogs the window. Len wonders how Barry can keep his head against the glass even as the car rattles down the freeway going ninety. He figures it’s a habit, or maybe Barry is subtly countering the vibrations of the car with ones of his own. Len isn’t sure, isn’t curious enough to wake the kid when he’s only barely slept the past few days.

Len turns his attention back to the rain-slick road. They’re the only car on the road and Len is idly grateful for it—less to worry about, less to stress over, less danger. It’s not surprising they’re the only ones around, given that it’s nearing three in the morning and they’re crossing state lines at alarming speeds. Len has been driving for twenty-two hours, six minutes, and he thinks maybe when Barry wakes again he’ll let the kid finally drive.

Len’s eyes flick to Barry then back to the road. They’ve been on the run for four days, twenty hours, fifteen minutes and counting. The memories of the shoot-out, the _battle_ as it were, are simultaneously a hazy fog and sharp as glass. They nag at the back of Len’s mind no matter how hard he tries to forget them. It doesn’t really, truly matter how they ended up here—not to him, at least. He’s sure Barry would disagree, always the hero and always worrying about what others think.

What matters to Len is there here, the _now_. They’re on the run from every law enforcement agency, every alphabet agency imaginable, and they’re on the run together. To Len, it matters less that people think he and Barry conspired to take out half of Central City and matters more that he keep Barry safe. Their phones have been ditched and replaced with a single prepaid phone: one that Len won’t let Barry touch. He knows the moment Barry gets his hands on a phone he’ll call someone back at S.T.A.R. labs.

And Len can’t really blame him. Cisco, Caitlin, Detective West and his daughter—they’re the only people possibly on the planet who believe in their innocence. Len understands why Barry is aching to call the people he loves, his family. Len, over the past few days, has itched to call Lisa. But he’s always stamped out that idea, knowing it would put all of them in more danger.  As someone old enough to be Barry’s father, Len’s impulse control is stronger. As someone who’s been on the run more often than he hasn’t been, Len’s experience with situations like this is better.

So Barry can’t touch the phone. Len lets him carry their single wallet to make up for it, though Barry clearly has no intention of spending more money than absolutely necessary. Barry probably enjoys hanging onto the wallet for all the pictures Len slipped in there before they left.

Barry shifts in his seat but doesn’t wake. Len has to resist the urge to reach out and comfort him, rub the kid’s shoulder or leg or ruffle his hair. Before the fallout, something had been bubbling between them, something undeniable. The ‘fights’ between them had turned less into fights and more into adventures. The banter was no longer laced with half-hearted threats and instead purely amusing on both their parts. More than once, Len had found himself swept off to a different crime scene, _helping_ the Flash catch other villains.

And if Len’s heart raced a little faster when Barry flashed him a victorious smile at the end of every night, well that’s just icing on the cake.

He’d even been invited to the West’s annual Christmas get together, though they’d both be missing it now. Len had actually been planning to attend. He had it all laid out, had planned to tell Barry he couldn’t go and then show up at just the right moment for maximum dramatic effect. Len had even decided, to himself, he was going to make a move on the kid and see where things went.

That whole plan went down the drain. So, as he kicks the speed up to ninety-five, Len decides it’s time for a new plan. He knows that in due time, the crew at S.T.A.R. labs will clear Barry’s name—if they clear Len’s is up in the air, as per usual—and this little adventure of theirs will have to come to an end. In the meantime, though, Len knows a new plan isn’t the worst idea.

Len smiles to himself. He and Barry can build a life like this for now. Len has done this enough times to know how to keep it fairly luxurious. He has connections and he has funds. Barry will likely object—the kid loves to wallow in self-loathing and heroic angst—and will insist they don’t deserve to live lavishly when they’re responsible for so much disaster. Len also knows he can convince the kid easily enough, hopefully in a way that’s plenty of fun for the both of them.

The sun begins to rise, the soft light appearing in streaks across the sky and blending with the black of the night. Len admires the way the stars begin to fade. Even the rain, which has been constant for the past ten hours, twenty minutes, eases up. Len lets himself reach over and grab Barry’s hand, laces their fingers. Barry doesn’t move and doesn’t wake. Len strokes his thumb along Barry’s skin, content for the moment.

There’s a lot that Len can’t predict, as much as he would like to. Here, though, in the _now_ , he isn’t worried.


End file.
